


All He Ever Wanted II

by Xx_Astrid_xX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xx_Astrid_xX/pseuds/Xx_Astrid_xX
Summary: It's been nearly a decade after the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry Potter, a world famous wizard known best for defeating the Dark Lord, just happens to run into Draco Malfoy, his old rival, exiled from the wizarding world by himself, living in a poor muggle tenement. But, then, for a reason he can't bring himself to think, Harry follows Draco to his flat.





	

Harry always felt like a burden to Ron and Hermione nowadays- especially Ron. It must be awkward for him to be best friends with the guy your kid sister was leaving... For a git like Dean Thomas.  
He walked beside Ron towards the bus stop. Harry'd gotten the house in Godric's Hollow- it had been his parents', after all- but since Ginny'd gotten the kids, it was pointless and very, very heartbreaking. He got visitation though, and Ginny was all too willing to invite Harry into her nice, big flat with Dean Thomas. Ron and Hermione were staying over tonight, though, since Rosie and little Hugo were at Mrs. Weasley's for the weekend. He and Ron each carried a takeout bag from McDonald's; one held Harry's and Ron's, the other Hermione's. With his age, the ginger had lost his appetite, much to Hermione's relief.  
Harry looked at the bus stop to see someone leaning on the clear wall, smoking.  
"Is that..." Hermione began, squinting. She honestly needed to get new glasses. "Is that Draco Malfoy?"  
Harry watched as the man who was, indeed, Draco Malfoy turn around at the sound of his name, see them, and look casually away.  
Harry examined him quickly. He'd grown even taller since the last time he'd seen Draco, and Harry probably only came to the middle of his forehead. His hair was cut shorter, slicked back like when they were young. His fair skin looked tan despite the lack of light, and his hair looked lighter. He wore a black suit jacket and dress pants, and a cigarette was in his hand. He looked older, angry... Manlier. Bitterness, too, sat on his handsome face. The trio walked past Harry's former rival and sat on the bench inside the small shelter, Harry the farthest from Malfoy.  
Harry sat awkwardly for a few minutes before piping up. "Ron," He asked his friend. "Do you have the bag with my takeout, or do I?"  
Ron grumbled something and dug out Harry's McDonald's, eyes tired. He knew Draco was making his friend uncomfortable, and he saw Ron's fingeres interlock with Hermione's.  
"Stuff isn't good for you," Draco spoke up, voice charming and much deeper than it had been at 17, much more attractive than it had been, though. Harry shuddered.  
"I don't eat it often," Harry said, looking at Draco, who was slightly obscured by the dirty, cheap plastic he had his shoulder on. He felt his blackberry vibrate in his pocket.  
Draco studied the trio for the first time since their arrival, Hermione, then Ron, and finally- for the longest- Harry.  
But, eventually, the blond looked forward and took out another cigarette. Harry watched the cigarette burn down, Malfoy rarely smoking it.  
"That's not particularly good for you, either," Harry said when it was practically just filter. Draco got the smile of a wounded, dying animal, more bared teeth than smile.  
"Don't you know that you have a lot more to live for than me, Potter?" Draco said before laughing a bitter, bitter laugh. he dropped the dead cigarette and smashed it into the pavement as if it were all the wrong in the world.  
"Why do you say that?" Asked Harry, frowning. He pictured pretty, blond Malfoy with his pretty, blond wife, and two pretty, blond kids in front of pretty Malfoy Manor.  
But Draco gave a laugh that made Harry doubt his vision. "I wonder," cooed Draco in a self-deprecating tone.  
Ron cleared his throat and shifted beside Harry. He was staring forward, obviously uncomfortable. He'd listen to Ron telling him, later, that he should've ignored Draco. Hermione looked at Malfoy, who sneered as he looked away. She probably wore the pity face again...  
No one spoke until the bus arrived about ten minutes later, but Harry never stopped watching Draco as the former ate Chicken McNugget and the latter smoked away in the moonlight.  
Draco shot onto the bus, but the trio was close behind and Hermione paid the driver first; Draco was still fumbling in his pockets when Harry led them to the back.  
His house was an hour away on this route, and the trio chatted happily about their earlier, easier Hogwarts years and briefly about Hermione's seventh year, though everyone expertly avoided the subject of Ginny.  
However, about forty-five minutes into the ride, Draco began to stand.  
An odd urge came over Harry and before he could think better of it, he stood and handed his bag to Hermione.  
"I've got some business here in town," Harry said. "I'll take another bus; you two just go and get settled."  
"Harry-" Ron began.  
"I'll be home soon!" Harry said, jogging off the train.  
Harry followed Draco for about ten minutes in the early autumn chill, zipping up his old jacket. They walked from the expensive condos, to the cheap ones, to the average flats, to atrocious, run down tenements, and beyond. With more than a little surprise, Harry followed Draco Malfoy into the crappiest apartment building he'd ever seen, and up decrepit stairs to the top floor.  
Malfoy fumbled with a large key ring. "Draco," Harry said from a few meters behind him, and the blond startled, dropping his keys. The blond let out a slew of curses, some of which Harry hadn't actually heard before- and Harry'd heard a lot. He wondered what kind of life Malfoy'd been living as he bent to pick his keys up for him; he had been the reason they'd been dropped. He stood and held them out, wearing a friendly smile, and realising he was quite close to Draco.  
"Potter?" Draco asked, looking down- Harry briefly remembered a time when he had been taller than his Slytherin counterpart.  
"You can call me Harry, you know," Harry tried to chuckle it, but he was feeling particularly out of place. He daresay the building was worse off than his old cupboard at his aunt and uncle's; to distract himself, Harry made a mental note to call Dudley later. After the war, they'd gotten in touch, and when they discovered his daughter Petunia was a muggleborn, they'd actually become close. He also thought of little Harry, who looked like a thin version of young Dudley... He wasn't ugly, actually, and his eyes reminded him of the man now in front of him.  
In the eyes that Harry Dursley's reminded him of, something changed, but the child's namesake didn't notice until Draco took a step closer to him.  
"Potter-" the blond gasped desperately, in the way not unlike how he used to gasp Ginny's after she came back from her Quidditch tours, and Harry knew Draco wanted him. He leaned back, almost gasping himself as memories of romantic dreams from Hogwarts rushed into him.  
But Draco swallowed what had just come over him and took a large step back, swallowing and closing his eyes for a long time, until the Potter boy unlocked the flat for him.  
"May I come in?" Harry asked hesitantly as Draco strolled in, looking exhausted.  
"If you must," said Draco in a tired, slightly irritated voice. Harry came in and noticed the flat itself wasn't bad, just small and monochrome. There was no dresser, only a pile of monochrome clothes on the floor, and a large window showed a well enough skyline. In the distance, Harry swore he could see the church of Godric's Hollow, a seven-minute fly from here.  
"How's Ginny?" Draco asked in a voice presumably to start conversation. Harry knew he must have been raised with hosting skills ground into him.  
Harry instinctively pulled away, into himself. The sadness and love had faded into bitter dislike, but that was something Harry did not want to feel for his ex. "Oh. We... We're not-" He looked away from Draco. "We're divorcing." He thought of the last vision he'd had of his kids- James holding Lily while Albus peeked over his arm, watching their father leave. "She got the kids," he said sadly.  
Draco looked at Harry for the first time since the raven-hair had entered the flat. "What are they like? The children,"  
Harry laughed quietly, fondly, and sat on the bed without permission. "Well, James is the oldest, he's five. He's very- bold. Silly. Bossy. He loves Quidditch. Albus, he's only three, but he's very smart. Lily, she's two, and she's very girly and quiet and easy to handle." Harry looked up at Draco. "What about you? Do you have..." He glanced around and immediately blushed.  
"Yeah. Scorpius. He's, uh, three now. He lives with my mother and father, because I'm not a good father and Astoria... She just wants to forget me, I suppose." Draco smiled softly, and Harry felt a little flutter in his stomach. "He looks like me." Harry pictured young Draco and slowly grinned. Neither spoke again for a few minutes; Harry had no response, and the silence was kind of nice.  
"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Draco asked, and Harry thought.  
"I could do with some water, if you would," Harry said before Draco stood and took two of those little glasses out, the kind one drank jack or vodka from, but he thought it wasn't a shot? Harry didn't know much about different types of glasses. One was nearly filled with water, the other with an amber liquid, some sort of alchohol.  
"Rough day?" Harry asked as he sipped the water politely.  
"Rough decade," chuckled Draco before downing half of the glass' contents like a pro. Harry felt the sting for him.  
"What happened to you, Malfoy?" Harry breathed quietly, sadness tainting his plain face. Draco hooted a dry, pained laugh, one that turned Harry's stomach.  
"I don't know, Potter," Draco was staring at Harry's feet, a far-away, broken gaze in his shimmering, silver eyes, and Harry was overwhelmed with a feeling it took him a moment to place and want. "I wish I knew."  
Harry shifted under the weight of the desire that he couldn't shake off anymore, then tugged Draco by the shirtsleeve. The latter gulped the rest of the contents of his glass and sat beside his company.  
"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said as quietly as he could, half hoping his host wouldn't hear. He'd known life for Slytherins and Death Eaters had gotten very, very bad after the war, but he didn't think anyone'd had it this bad- especially not Malfoy, who- upon Harry's reflections- hadn't been all that bad a person.  
Draco laughed at Harry's apology. "What ever for?" Draco asked bitterly, and the look of overwhelming hatred and anger was born in his eyes, the same kind that he'd used to hold, in the later Hogwarts years.  
"For that.," Harry managed when the look passed. Then, he gave a resigned laugh. "I hated you, too." he admitted under his breath.  
"I never hated you, Potter," Draco corrected. "Despised you? Maybe. Envied you. Wanted- well, I don't know what I wanted, but I neevr hated you."  
Wanted? Harry had wanted him, too, during the late nights of fourth and fifth and sixth years, fantasized and dreamed. He was the only boy Harry's ever wanted, except for- briefly- Bill Weasley, who'd been the first one to find him crying after he'd seen Ginny and Dean kissing after he'd gone to surprise her during her visit to Fleur.  
"You- envied me?" Harry tried to make the edited question seem natural; he didn't want it to seem like he'd ever wanted the boy. He hadn't even known if that had been what he'd say... And the Gryffindor was not feeling very brave.  
"You were... perfect. The Chosen One, the Quidditch star, the good boy everyone loved. How could someone- especially someone like how I was- not be jealous of that?"  
Confusion and sadness overwhelmed the man who'd sprouted from the Boy Who Lived. The strong desire pushed itself into Harry's eyes, but he couldn't care less. "How you, were?" He still seemed like... Malfoy.  
"I've grown up, if only a slight bit." Harry couldn't resist clenching Draco's bicep gently, but the latter shrugged his suit jacket off, revealing tense, pale muscles.  
He had darker, courser hair on his arms and muscles that looked bulging on his lithe frame. His hair was loosening from it's slicked-back 'do, and his face was a lot older. Harry pictured the Draco he'd last seen and realized... They looked completely different.  
"You seem much more grown up," Harry said, unforced humor tickling his voice. Draco pondered that a moment.  
"Is that a compliment?" Draco turned his face from in front of them the the shorter boy who was a mere few centimeters from him. Their arms almost touched. Harry smiled as widely as he had probably since Lily's birth.  
"If you'd like it to be one," Harry said. Draco got a small smile and found his eyes wandering away from Harry once more. He'd developed an issue with eye contact, apparently, and bitterly he rubbed the faded Dark Mark on his arm. He wondered how often Muggles complimented it... Had he not known its origins, he may have, too.  
"I think I would," Draco breathed in a barely-audible voice, and Harry felt the desire in his host before he saw it. The Gryffindor sucked in a slow, quiet, deep breath.  
"Draco," Harry whispered needily.  
"Don't," Draco said suddenly, but the want still radiated off of him like heat in waves.  
"Don't what?"  
"Just, don't,"  
Harry gave Draco a desperate look before letting all of his want and his need for the Slytherin slide onto his face- after all, this was all he'd ever wanted, right in front of him. He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? He pressed his lips to the taller boy's and Draco gasped through his nose, eyes squeezing shut just as Harry's own fluttered shut. He wasn't kissing back- why wasn't he kissing back? Unsurely, the Chosen One continued to kiss at Draco's upper lip before moving his hands up to hold Malfoy's face; was Harry a rubbish kisser?  
Suddenly, however, the receiver of the attack surged to life and took Harry's bottom lip between his own. Arms wrapped around Harry as the two boys twisted to face each other on the bed. Their tongues began to dance, and it was a completely different experience than with Ginny, or Cho, or Harry's many post-divorce one night stands, or Harry's wildest fantasies. Draco's tongue was thin and agile, just like Harry's and snogged quite well. he tasted mildly of chemical and burnt leather, and hints of mint were painted on his cheeks. They drank from one another, a surprising lack of spit pouring into Harry's mouth; that had always been his least favorite part of snogging.  
Harry pushed himself on top of Draco, still clinging to the pretty-turned handsome face. Harry heard himself making noises he'd never made before, almost similar to a girl. Draco's long, elegant fingers tickling his back made him wild, and soon Harry's shirt was all the way up to his armpits. Harry let go of Draco's face to grip the hips that failed to grind up into him the way he wanted, and dug his fingers in curiously, earning him the hottest growl Harry'd ever heard. Harry wondered if he'd get to top Draco, then realised that sex with the man would have to be either oral or anal. He definitely wanted to be the receiver of both.  
Harry pulled reluctantly off of his Slytherin lover, laying in the middle of the bed, and pulled a very willing Draco on top, resuming the clawing of his hips and spreading his legs wide, which felt kind of odd and, again, kind of like a girl.  
"How far can I go," Draco growled after a few more minutes of snogging, when Harry'd begun to the feel the throbbing of his blond top against his own straining bulge.  
"All the way," gasped Harry, feeling intoxicated, wriggling under Draco- like a girl. He was all but panting, and he saw Draco give a small, fond smile behind his half-lidded eyes, and Draco's own eyes scrunched up. The not-so rich boy removed Harry's glasses and set them somewhere before taking off his own shirt. His arms were strong, but his stomach held only the whispers of muscles, his pecks starting to sag at the delicate age of twenty seven. Draco went for Harry's polo- the latter didn't remember taking his jacket off- and it caught of his ear. They laughed together, something that made Harry's heart dance, and when it was done, Harry shyly undid Draco's belt.  
"I've never done anything with a guy," Harry stuttered, feeling anxiety build up.  
"Me, either," Draco said, and that comforted him a bit. The Slytherin pushed his slacks down and moved to the edge of the bed to strip to nothing but his boxers, a dark navy that made him look paler. Harry stripped down, too, tossing his shoes near Draco's and everything else nearby, until he was in white socks and red whitey tighties. Draco smiled at the sight of them, but frowned at his socks.  
"Why're you in socks?" His voice was almost offended, and Harry resisted the urge to laugh aloud.  
"What?" He asked instead, then shrugged at them. Draco sighed and took them off for him; Dobby would be rolling in his grave, Harry thought. Draco kneeling in between Harry's knees.  
"Nothing," Draco was grinning. "Do I need- lubricant?"  
"I'd bloody well think so," snorted Harry. If, of course, Draco's goal was to not rip his lover to shreds. Draco laughed at Harry.  
"Will saliva work for that? Or do I- I don't have anything else."  
"Just," Harry started, shifting, thinking. "Do you have a pre-lubricated condom?"  
"I don't have any condoms," Draco frowned, and Harry nearly smiled, choosing to believe Harry was Draco's first in a while rather than the latter didn't feel the need to make sure he didn't impregnate the women he took. But then, Harry sighed.  
"Then, yeah, I reckon spit would work." Harry would not enjoy this session.  
Draco put his hands on Harry's bent, knobbly knees and glanced at Harry's now half-hard erection. He stroked Harry's legs sensually, then purposefully avoided his y-fronts to his smooth stomach. Harry's underpants stirred once more as cool, thin fingers tickled him. He brushed over Harry's small nipples and slid his hands to the sides of Harry, holding, before leaning down to kiss his collarbone. Harry buried his fingers into the white hair, destroying the style happily. Draco kissed up Harry's neck to snog him once more, exploring the bottom's mouth until Harry was again throbbing in his pants, up into Draco's stomach. Draco travelled back down to Harry's slightly hairy chest to kiss each of his nipples without tongue. Harry hissed in a breath and decided after a moment that he liked the attention very, very much. But Draco continued down, slowly stripping Harry of his last bit of clothing, and his 15 cm sprung free quite happily, a brilliant rose tip facing him from his tummy.  
Harry didn't miss the borderline cringe Draco got when his eyes met Harry's member, and nearly started crying; he needed to feel something there.  
Spit fell from Draco's mouth and Harry nearly purred; he did let out noises as Draco started pumping him. He looked down to slip down Draco's own shorts and take his 23 cm, thick member in his own hand, finding a slight attraction to it; maybe, if he and Draco stayed in contact, he would be on the giving end of oral. He had a little hood over the tip of him, pale and veiny, and Harry smiled... Uncut members made their own lube, didn't they?  
"I don't think we need lube if you're- y'know- uncut."  
"Oh," Draco said plainly. Harry was happy the top didn't have to spit on his arse. The Slytherin opened Harry's legs a bit more and made the cringe-face, and Harry was reminded disdainfully that he hadn't showered since last night... But he was clean down there. His face tinged as he was reminded of his girly position beneath the hunky blond.  
Draco blushed, too, and Harry saw almost disgust in his face. Was Draco straight? Was Harry? What were they doing?  
"Let me watch you," Draco said suggestively. "Get yourself ready for me." Harry blushed darker and moved his eyes.  
There was no way in hell Harry was doing that. "I-I." Harry started. "I don't want to."  
"I don't either," Draco forced out, very reluctantly. "I mean- I want to, like, be in you, but not… Not with my fingers.”  
Harry gave a laugh at the admission. "Then just do it," Harry said bravely.  
"Are you sure? It's going to hurt," Draco confirmed.  
"Yes, Malfoy," Harry forced himself to be as emotionless as possible. "Please, just get it done."  
Harry felt his face burning, and was pushed over the edge when Draco spat on his hand and rubbed in onto his length, the way Harry always did.  
"I'm not a girl," snapped Harry. "Don't- I changed my mind. I need to be in some other position."  
Draco chuckled nervously and helped Harry up. Harry shifted before reluctantly dropping to his hand and knees. Doggy it had to be. "Are you ready now?" Draco asked, hands spreading themselves on Harry's stomach. He re-hardened instantly at the sensation.  
"Yeah," Harry allowed after a moment of mental preparation. Harry felt Draco push at his opening, not roughly but certainly not gently. Harry breathed as the band argued against the moist invasion.  
"Just tell me," breathed Draco as the tip was swallowed by Harry's body, and the latter tensed as the pain slowly melted away. "If I need to stop." Harry eventually felt himself loosen around his pitcher, and Draco sailed himself home, fitting all the way inside the boy, brushing against some spot in Harry.  
He stayed still in Harry until the latter realized he was waiting for permission to continue. "I'm ready," Harry urged. Draco began to move.  
It felt odd to Harry, but now, it didn't really hurt. He kind of liked it, he decided, as Draco's veiny length stroked his prostate. Soon, Harry was moaning and pushing back to feel Draco's body against his own, to feel utterly full. His body was clenching down, making Draco feel even more massive inside of him. Soon, Draco leaned forward to cling desperately to Harry; who was the girl now? Harry thought in the back of his mind. Draco was moaning and grunting even louder and more often than Harry, who lost his grip and fell forward onto his elbows, bum in the air against Draco's hips. One forarm pulled Draco closer by the hair, and Draco reached around to stroke Harry's half-hard member and twist pleasantly at his nipples. Harry snogged Draco, who tried to kiss back until just letting Harry explore his mouth, but leaned forward more so Harry didn't have to strain back.  
Not long after they came together, Draco into Harry and Harry onto the sheet. Harry collapsed into his mess and Draco's present leaked from him, until Draco wrapped them in a blanket and curled against Harry. They fell asleep soon after and slept until noon.


End file.
